The Captain's Seat
by sherlockfic
Summary: Have you ever wondered why the admiral's chair disappeared from season one, and the captain sits on the edge of the admiral's desk? Is this befitting the commander of a nuclear submarine? In honor of David Hedison's 88th birthday, and the friendship between David Hedison and Richard Basehart, and of Captain Crane and Admiral Nelson. Enjoy!


_The Captain's Seat  
_

Have you ever wondered why the admiral's chair disappeared from season one, and the captain sits on the edge of the admiral's desk? Is this befitting the commander of a nuclear submarine?

In honor of David Hedison's 88th birthday, and the friendship between David Hedison and Richard Basehart, and of Captain Crane and Admiral Nelson.

Enjoy!

 _Season One  
_

There was a knock at the door interrupting Harry's concentration—yet again. He sighed, wondering what dire emergency needed his attention this time. "Come in."

The captain slipped inside, a big smile spread across his face.

"Lee!" The admiral pushed his paperwork aside; he could use a break, anyway. "What brings you here?"

"Well, Admiral, I don't mean to bother you, but I wanted your opinion on some of the men." The tip of his shoe tapped almost noiselessly against the floor. The only sign of nervousness the new commander of _Seaview_ displayed. I don't think they…" he rolled his hand forward, as if searching for the right word, hanging somewhere just out of reach. He dropped his hand. "…like me so much."

"Like you?"

"That's not…" Lee took a breath and glanced at the ceiling. "I don't need to be liked."

"We all need to be liked, Lee."

The captain took a step toward him and leaned against the desk. "Be that as it may, I have plenty of people in this world who like me." He perched on the edge of the desk and placed his hands in his lap, bending forward. "I do, however, need the crew's respect."

Instead of shrinking away from the close proximity of the captain, Harry found himself leaning forward, closing the gap they formed. "I agree, Lee. Do you think the men don't respect you?"

The captain's hands rose a few inches up before flapping back onto his lap. "It takes time to develop a working relationship with anyone. Except for those rare instances in life when you instantly connect with somebody and work together like you've always done so."

The admiral felt a smirk tug at his lips. That was how it was when he'd first met Lee. As though they'd known each other all their lives. Perhaps that was why he wasn't as concerned about the men getting along with their new captain. Harry knew they would, once they saw Lee for what he was, instead of the brash young man who'd snuck on board and replaced their beloved Captain Phillips.

Lee continued. "But we don't have time for that. It's a luxury in the military."

"We're no longer in the military."

The captain blinked at the admiral. "Yes. I-I know that. But similar rules apply. Any minute we could run into trouble. We could get a dangerous mission, or a fire could break out, or any of a hundred things could happen that requires split-second decision-making and mean the difference between life and death for any of us. Or all of us, for that matter." Lee stood up and paced.

"Are you nervous about your new command?"

Lee swung back to face him, his eyes crinkled in confusion. "No. Why would you…Oh, no, sir, I'm used to making those split-second decisions. But if the men don't respect me, if they don't trust me…" He rolled his hand again, searching the air for those elusive words.

The admiral got to his feet. "Lee, sit down." He pointed to the guest chair.

Lee looked at it as though he'd never seen it before. "Oh." He sank into the cushion and sighed deeply. "I should have waited to come to you. Or not come to you at all. I thought, given your experience, you might have a better perspective on this than I do. It can't be a unique problem I happened to stumble into."

Harry chuckled and immediately hoped he hadn't offended the young man, but Lee simply looked up at him and seemed to relax. "You're doing fine, Lee. We _are_ in a unique position, if you stop to think about it. This isn't the military. _Seaview_ is my boat. I outrank the commander, which may prove interesting one day."

"One problem at a time."

Harry laughed heartily at that one. "The men respect me. They have faith in me." He leaned down for a few seconds. "They even like me."

Lee made a face at him.

Harry patted the captain's shoulder. "The point is, they trust me, I'm here, and I chose you."

Lee nodded. "Out of everyone you could have picked. Yeah, that's got to seep in at some point."

Harry rounded his desk and sat down again, regarding Lee over steepled fingers.

The captain stared back. "Let me be clear, Admiral. I have no issue with my abilities or my position here, and if any of the men don't like it, that's tough for them, not me. Unless constructive criticism is given." He got out of the chair and waved a hand to his left. "My office is an open door, too. But I am afraid if there's a problem, the men will look to you and not to me." He sat down on the edge of the desk again. "It sets a precedent I don't want to have to deal with."

Harry felt his left eyebrow lift up. "I see."

Lee met his gaze head-on and unflinchingly.

Harry tilted back in his chair, to put a little distance between them. "I don't think we'll have a problem, Captain. You're obvious, straightforward and honest."

He furrowed his brow. "Those all mean the same thing."

The admiral laughed. "You're the kind of man that deserves a thesaurus's worth of description. There are distinctions, and you fit them all. Give the men time." The admiral raised a hand before Lee could speak again. "I appreciate your concerns in that regard, but from what I've seen—and heard—the men are already warming up to you."

"Oh?" Lee crossed his arms and straightened his back, still perched on the desk. "That's not the impression I've been getting."

"That, I am not surprised to hear."

"How do you mean?"

"When people make a turnaround, they often hold tight to their original stance. Just for a little while."

"It'll get worse before it gets better?"

"It's a good sign, Lee."

"They're like children."

Harry chuckled. "Wait until you become an admiral. You're all like children from here." Again, it occurred to Harry he'd offended the man. Besides having just called him a child, he'd also arranged for Lee's dismissal from the Navy so he could captain _Seaview_. He'd never earn an admiralcy now. Lee was so open and was so easy to talk to, Harry sometimes said things he ordinarily wouldn't. But Lee just broke out in that genuine grin he had and shook his head.

 _Sometime later  
_

Harry was exhausted. The mission was barely over, and _Seaview_ was limping back to port, barely holding herself together. She needed numerous repairs, and the men needed shore leave, desperately. Thank God no hands were lost.

He shuffled papers on his desk, having no intention or ability to work on them. That would come later. There'd be plenty of time for everything later, right now he just wanted to sit there and brood. There was a knock at the door. The only thing worse than the thought of paperwork was the thought of company.

He was tired, short-tempered and wanted to be alone. "Come in," he growled, hoping the person on the other side of the door would take the hint and slink back down the corridor for safer pastures.

The door opened wide. "Admiral. There you are."

Harry stared at the captain, dumbfounded. "Where else would I be, Lee?" he snapped.

Lee raised three fingers and ticked each one as he spoke. "Galley, lab or here. I guess third time's the charm." He sank onto the edge of the desk, flashing a dazzling smile.

The admiral grunted softly. Lee had no right to be so…so refreshed. So awake. So happy. "What do you want, Lee?" Harry took a little bit of joy in the captain's grin faltering. "I assume you came in for a reason and you're not just playing hide-and-seek."

"No, that's not on the itinerary until tomorrow." Lee tried smiling again, but the light that'd been in his eyes a moment ago, did not make a reappearance. He leaned over. "Are you all right, Admiral?"

"Am I all right?" He took a quick breath. "Course I'm all right. I'm, I'm just buried in paperwork. _Seaview_ needs a lot of repairs. Parts don't grow on trees, you know."

"Oh, is that all." Lee reached over and selected a few sheets at the top of a small pile. "I can help you with that."

The admiral placed both hands on his desk and shoved his chair back before coming to his feet. "I don't need help." He snatched the pages from Lee before pointing to his nice, comfy guest chair. "Why don't you ever sit in that instead of nosing around, messing up my piles? You're a captain, why don't you act like one and use a chair?"

Lee's face fell as he half-jumped, half-slid off the desk. He looked at the edge, where his backside had just been resting, as if he hadn't realized he'd been using it as a seat. "Oh. Huh. That's funny." He turned to the guest chair and placed a tentative hand on the cushion before turning around and plopping into it.

The tiniest twinge of guilt tickled the admiral's belly. "What's so funny?"

"My dad used to tell me the same thing, about not rifling through his papers. He had a desk in the corner of one room. The space was so small, he couldn't fit in an extra chair. As a boy, I would go talk to him, you know, ask his advice, his opinion, or just chat. I always sat on the edge of his desk." A huff of a laugh escaped his lips. "I've never done it outside that home." He waved a hand as if dismissing the memory. "No matter. What's important is getting you out of this cabin."

"I have work to do."

Lee stood up and took Harry by the elbow. "Of course you do. And I know you have no intention of doing any of it right now."

"Oh, you do?"

"You're cranky and moping."

Harry offered his most intimidating scowl, the kind that melted even the hardiest of sailors under his command.

Lee rolled his eyes. "Cranky. Moping. Hungry. And in need of a good break. Come on." Lee tugged at his uniform sleeve. "We'll eat dinner in the observation nose and you can pretend to ignore me while I tell you about my woman trouble."

Harry tried so hard to hang onto his morose mood, but the effusing captain was killing it—and so easily, too. Harry must be slipping. He was the sort that could take pride in indulging in a good sulk.

 _Season Two  
_

Harry frowned. The good captain was yammering on about the daily reports—from the guest chair across the desk. Ever since Lee shared that story about the time he spent with his father, Harry had felt guilty for banishing him.

Harry would sit at his desk, and whenever Lee came in, he sat down in the chair. They sat like that and talked about Loch Ness. They sat like that and talked about crazed politicians and misguided scientists. They sat like that and talked about so many other various issues.

The difference was only a few feet, but it felt like a hundred fathoms. He could hear Lee's voice clearly, but it wasn't the same. He could see him without a problem, but…it wasn't the same. Something was missing, and Harry was darned if he knew what it was.

Maybe things would go back to normal if he could somehow get Lee to sit on his desk again. But how could he orchestrate such a feat? Harry had tried standing in front of the chair, hoping Lee would absent-mindedly gravitate toward the desk, but that didn't work. He tried extending his arm in greeting so Lee would shake his hand and slide onto the desk's edge, but the captain just gave him a quizzical look, shook his hand and then walked to the chair.

Harry had even stacked a pile of books and papers on the chair, but Lee merely chatted while he bent over, scooped up the pile and carefully dumped it on the edge of the desk. The same edge he used to sit on, as if unconsciously taunting him. Only Lee never knew what Harry was trying to do. He'd never given it a second thought, Harry was sure of that. At least he hadn't offended Lee with that crack about captains sitting in chairs and not sticking their noses into other people's business. In fact, Harry was beginning to think Lee was the kind of man who couldn't be offended.

That could come in handy.

 _Later  
_

Harry sat in the observation nose watching a school of fish dart behind some rocks. That was when an idea hit him. But he couldn't put his plan into action until the next time they returned to port…

 _Not too long after that  
_

They'd just left Santa Barbara when Harry was furiously scribbling notes to himself on his latest experiment. There was a knock at the door. He didn't have time to entertain guests, he was too busy. After a few more seconds of silence, save his pen scratching the paper, he heard another knock. "Come in," he ground out. He prayed whoever it was entered quietly so he could at least finish his thought. He felt the presence of someone with high energy, but that didn't really narrow down the identity of the intruder. He finished writing and glanced up. Lee stood in front of his desk, a big smile on his face. Did the man ever frown?

Harry blinked. Of course he did. Harry'd seen Lee in many tense situations. Way too many. Countless moments that preyed upon their patience and flagged even the captain's resolve. He'd seen Lee exhausted, brainwashed, sick, hurt, God help him—he'd seen Lee dying. But all of that faded when Lee stood before the desk, grinning as though they'd never engaged in a battle of wills, or faced each other in the heat of high emotion. But right now, Harry was left with the impression that the captain always smiled when in this room. He just wished he could hang onto that perception.

"Lee," the admiral said. He dropped his pen, wondering if the captain was there for business, advice, opinion or just a chat.

"This was delivered for you before we left port." He handed over a package.

Harry took the envelope—Eyes Only—and opened it. After scanning the contents, he glanced up at the captain. Lee was smiling brightly, his hands clasped in front of him. Harry sighed. They'd been given a new mission, thus delaying the research project he'd been looking forward to working on.

"Good news, sir?" Lee stood at ease, waiting for orders, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

The admiral dropped the missive and leaned back in his seat. "Seems we're wanted for a deep sea assignment once again."

Lee took the opportunity to relax. "Tell me all about it." He took a step back and bent at the knees. "I hope we have a chance to break out the new Flying Sub." His hand flailed and he turned his head, finally realizing there was no chair there. "I can't wait to test the new guidance system. Where is your chair?"

Harry waved a hand as dismissively as he could. "It's being reupholstered. And the guidance system has been tested thoroughly."

The captain straightened. "Not by me."

Harry chuckled. "No, I suppose not." He pointed to the top secret orders. "And you may get your opportunity."

Lee rounded the desk and leaned against the edge. "Oh, do tell."

The admiral explained as much as he was allowed. He could fill the captain in on the other details as they approached their destination. Throughout Harry's monologue, Lee crossed his arms and perched on the edge of the desk, looking as comfortable and natural as the first day he'd adopted that same position. The admiral nearly lost his train of thought, picturing Lee as a boy, chatting amiably with his father. It couldn't have been too different from this.

Harry wasn't sure how this mission would end, but one thing he could guarantee; that chair was never leaving his office at the Institute.

 **THE END**


End file.
